Between Brothers
by pandora1017
Summary: Chris Jericho? Who would have thought? *Slightly slashy... and by slightly, I mean very much so...*
1. It starts [1/6]

Title: "Between Brothers: It starts"  
Author: pandora1017  
Rating: R  
Content: Slashy  
A/N: This is going to be a series, eventually, each chapter should be a progressive story. So hang on for a good time. Oh, and none of these crazy kids are mine. Oh, but if only they were.... ;-) 

.

Chris Jericho took the steps two at a time in his hurry to find his younger friend, Christian, and tell him that he'd finally found a gym in this Godforsaken, rundown town. When he reached the third floor of the hotel, he stopped a moment to catch his breath at Christian's door, which was slightly ajar. He smirked at this, adjusting how his gym bag was resting on his shoulder. Christian was a very jumpy man, for some reason unknown to Jericho, but he liked to take advantage of it as often as possible. He slammed the door open and bounded into the room.

"Hey, Chris - !" He stopped as soon as he saw inside the room. Christian wasn't there, but some else was. Someone who wasn't welcome in Christian's room. Someone who'd been been startled from his T.V. watching, but was now starting to smirk. Someone who Chris Jericho did not like.

"Hey, Chris," Edge purred, slightly more calm than Jericho had announced moments earlier. He drew himself up to his knees from a prone position and set down the remote. Jericho sneered.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Junior?"

"I suppose I could ask you the same."

"I was looking for Christian," Jericho answered, bordering haughty. His disdain for Edge was obvious. Edge looked Jericho up and down, taking him in with a slight smile, and noticed the gym bag. Jericho followed his gaze. "I was going to see if he wanted to work out."

"Yeah, well, Christian isn't here, but, sure, I'll go with you."

"That wasn't an invitation."

But Edge was already getting to his feet and heading to the door. "Who's going to spot you? I have to get my stuff from my room first, come on."

Jericho didn't move. "I'll wait for Christian, thanks."

"No, no, he could be out all night, that boozer," Edge joked, standing in the doorway and waiting on Jericho. "Let's go."

Again, Jericho didn't move. "What are you doing in here, anyway? You're not welcome in here."

"Now, Chris, that's not nice," Edge feigned pouting, "how do you know that Li'l Chrissy and I haven't kissed and made up?"

"Because you just called him 'Li'l Chrissy'? Where is he?"

Edge shrugged.

"How'd you get in his room?"

Edge smirked. And Jericho chewed his gum furiously, glaring.

"Don't worry about it," Edge urged. "Come on, let's hit the gym."

Jericho sighed, there was no point fighting him. If he wanted to go the gym tonight, he figured he wouldn't be able to avoid Edge. "Fine, where's your room?"

Edge, still smirking, simply turned and lead Jericho down the hall.

-

"You ready?"

"Yeah," Jericho muttered, his eyes still closed. He was lying on his back on a bench, focusing on the gum in his mouth, while Edge fixed the weights on either end. They'd been at an otherwise empty gym for almost an hour now and were just finishing up their work out. Edge had bench pressed his last rep, and Jericho was ready to get this over with. An hour with Edge was, to him, an hour of torture. Edge just made him uneasy, for no apparent reason. Maybe it was the way that ever time Jericho looked at him, he had that unsettling smirk on his face. Jericho cringed internally, then opened his eyes and found Edge leaning over him. His hair was falling over the sides of his face despite the fact that it was restrained with a backwards baseball hat, and he **still** had that eerie smirk. Jericho looked away from him to the bar that rested over him and gripped it, tentatively, before pushing up to unhook the bar from the rack.

"Shit," Jericho groaned, after just one press, and struggled to get the bar back up. He noticed Edge again, standing over him. He looked almost sadistic, enjoying watching Jericho struggle under what was obviously too much weight for him. Jericho became slightly nervous again, from the look on Edge's face, just before Edge finally grabbed the bar and set it back in the rack. Jericho sat up, grabbed his chest loosely, trying to catch his breath, then turned and glared up at Edge. "What the hell are you doing, you ass clown? That's too much, I didn't say to put that much on!"

Edge shrugged, with a smile still playing on his mouth.

"I thought you were just underestimating," Edge said, stepping directly behind Jericho and slowly sliding a hand down his prominent pecs. He froze at the touch, not certain what was going on. Edge could feel his surprise in the way the rising and falling of his chest quickened suddenly. "Certainly feels like you were underestimating."

After what had seemed like forever, Jericho reacted, grabbing Edge's wrist gruffly and pulling it away from him. "Ha ha. I know you're jealous. Let me put my own weights on this time."

Edge threw his hands up innocently with a smirk and stepped away from the bench as Jericho dropped about fifteen pounds from either side, then lay back on the bench to try again. He closed his eyes, taking a breath, then opened them again to start lifting, but hesitated when he saw Edge standing over him once again, just as before. "I think I'll handle it this time, Junior. You can go change, or whatever."

Edge took a couple steps back, which reassured Jericho slightly, and he reached up to grasp the bar again.

"Careful," Edge purred again. This, too, startled Jericho.

"Are you leaving?" Jericho demanded, not looking at the other man.

Edge shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not so much."

Jericho muttered to himself as he lifted the bar and started pressing the weight. Much better, he decided. He worked in silence, save a quick punk song playing on a tinny sounding radio at the reception desk and a quiet humming of the dingy mercury lights in the gym. Again, he concentrated on his gum and pressed the bar a few times.

"You done?" Edge interrupted his monotony after a moment and grabbed the bar, helping Jericho set it back up in the hooks.

"Yeah, thanks," Jericho answered, distractedly, as he sat up and rolled his shoulders to stretch his muscles. They'd worked arms and chest tonight, and he felt pretty good right now. Despite the fact that Edge was still there with him. "Let's get out of here."

Edge nodded and grabbed a towel, tossing it to Jericho so he could wipe down the bench. As Jericho did that, he noticed Edge still just standing and watching him, with that smirk. Jericho sneered. "So... go."

"I will," Edge answered, playing innocent, and took the weights off the other end of the bar as Jericho took them off the near side. "Soon enough."

The two men finished resetting the weights and went back towards the locker room. Jericho tried to hide the fact that he kept looking up at Edge every couple of seconds, still wary of him. Edge pretended not to notice. He opened the locker room door for Jericho, finally looking to him with that smirk. Jericho passed him, refusing to take his eyes off him, just in case. He set his duffel bag on the nearest bench, and pulled the hair tie out of his long blonde and red hair, running his hands through it nervously. He cast another glance to Edge. Yes, he was still watching him.

"All right!" Jericho yelled, anxiously. "What the hell is going on?"

Edge smiled blythly and pulled his sweaty, worn out 'Edge and Christian' shirt over his head, dropping it on the bench in front of him. The action was very deliberate and Edge watched Jericho's reaction with interest. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you being so... so... so... freaky?" Jericho demanded. "Why do you keep staring at me? Why do you keep smirking at me?"

His response was another smirk. "Oh, come on, Chris, I think you know the answer to that."

"Listen, Junior, I don't know what you're thinking, but you need to stop right there."

Edge took a bold step towards Jericho, who stood his ground under the false pretense of courage. Edge smirked, about three feet away from Jericho.

"Stop right where?" He took another step, closing about half the distance. "Here?"

Jericho tensed as Edge moved forward, but he was still ready to defend himself. He held up his index finger and pointed it at Edge. It was about shoulder level on him, but only managed to come up to the middle of Edge's chest. Jericho tried to not let this phase him and poked Edge sharply in the middle of his chest. "I've had enough of your head trip, ass clown."

"That's funny," Edge smirked once again, narrowing his eyes. "I'm just getting started."

Jericho's bright blue eyes widened, revealing his surprise. Edge was enjoying this. He lifted a hand slowly and pushed Jericho's hair behind his ear. Jericho was too arrogant to step back and Edge was having too much fun to stop. Jericho glared furiously at the younger man who now towered an impressive half a foot over him. From this angle, those six inches looked like twelve.

"What is this, fucking Deliverance?" Jericho finally snapped and backed away. To his dismay, his escape was cut short by a badly placed, in his opinion, locker. Edge just followed him and closed all distance between them, leaning up against Jericho. Jericho's pulse started to race as Edge lightly ran a hand down his shoulder. Jericho tried to catch his breath, but was having more trouble than he expected. Edge grinned now, at the fact that Jericho hadn't moved.

"What do you want?" Jericho shot at Edge, trying his best to pretend he was still in control of the situation.

Edge smiled. "You know."

"You can't -"

Edge cut him off with a kiss. Jericho braced himself against the locker behind him in surprise. The kiss lasted longer than Edge expected it to, but he wasn't bothered. After a long moment, Jericho finally shoved Edge away, trying to catch his breath. Finally backing off, Edge grinned at Jericho, snapping on his new piece of gum. Jericho finally dropped all pretenses and looked up at Edge, frozen, with complete and utter shock. Edge turned away from Jericho and put on a clean shirt, stuffing the dirty one in his bag, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He turned back to Jericho and grinned again as he found him exactly as he left him.

"You coming?" Edge asked, heading towards the door to the locker room.

Jericho didn't move as Edge left, but once he was gone, he slid to the floor.

"Holy shit."

After a couple more deep breaths, he jumped back up, changed into a clean shirt, then hurried after Edge. 


	2. I was... ah, at the gym. [2/6]

A/N: Well, it was supposed to be a series, but turned into a story. *shrugs* It's still good, I think.

----------

"You're still here?"

Edge, leaning back in a chair so he could rest his feet on the table in front of him, looked up from his Rolling Stone magazine to the well cut blonde man donning only a towel as he emerged from his shower. Edge smirked. "Did you want me to leave?"

"Whatever." The other man, not even six feet tall, enjoyed one of his few chances to tower over Edge and crossed the small hotel room to the table by the window, still towel drying his long hair. He looked Edge up and down, then smirked when he tried to meet him eye to eye. "Is it really necessary to wear those sunglasses inside?"

Edge grinned. "I'll forget them if I don't."

The blonde held his tongue and just shook his head with a smile, changing the topic. "Do you have anything else to do today?"

"Not so much," Edge shrugged. "Just bug you."

He gave Edge a half smile and padded back over to the tiny bathroom. "Who said you're bugging me? I could use the company. I'm supposed to be rooming with Lance, but I just can't seem to keep him around. I think I'm starting to get on his nerves."

"Nah, I think he's just a work out junkie," Edge responded, in a weak attempt to console him.

"That would explain why he's so huge."

Edge raised a brow at that comment, smirking again. Maybe it was just his sick mind, though, he couldn't see the look on the face of his counterpart to see if he'd meant it as Edge had taken it.

"That's not what I mean," he called from the bathroom, answering Edge's unspoken question, and Edge chuckled, looking back down to his magazine. There was another silence, then, "So where were you last night?"

Edge froze, not even bothering to raise his eyes from his magazine.

"I gave you my key, but I expected you to stay here and wait for me to get back, not lock me out. You're lucky Lance was still at the hotel. I must have looked like a moron, trying to explain why I didn't have a key."

"Oh, sorry," Edge stumbled around in his brain, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. Might not do well to tell the whole truth, as it usually didn't around here. "I was... ah, at the gym."

"The gym?" his brother asked, as if that reminded him of something. Christian came back out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and groomed - almost. He leaned against the windowsill, still putting on his aftershave. He finished that shortly and set the bottle on the windowsill next to him. "Speaking of the gym, Jericho was supposed to go find one last night so we could go. He disappeared, too. Just like you."

Edge examined his brother's face as Christian examined the magazine in Edge's hands, taking it away from him. Edge was relieved to see that Christian hadn't made the connection, and quickly downplayed it. "Yeah, Jesus, what a slacker."

Christian snickered to himself, just before closing the magazine and tossing it back to Edge. "Yeah, he prol'ly just got lazy and didn't feel like working out. Next time **I'm** going to be in charge of finding the gym."

"Sounds like him," Edge did his best to keep his voice light. Typically, Christian could usually tell when he was lying or not - some uncanny brother thing that Edge had never mastered - but Christian just didn't seem to care enough this morning.

"So who'd you go with? Is there actually a gym here?"

"Um, yeah, a small one," Edge answered, stalling to think of someone he could have gone to the gym with. When he found one, he was so surprised he just blurted out, "Kidman!"

Christian looked up to Edge, finally, startled by the outburst. Edge silently cursed himself, Christian hadn't been the least bit suspicious til that. After the mental cursing, however, he mentally thanked any and all available gods that he'd decided to leave his sunglasses on - so Christian couldn't see his eyes.

"What?"

"That reminded me, Billy left his weight gloves in my bag, I have to find him and get them back to him," Edge started rambling out a story. Christian **was** starting to get suspicious. His brother wasn't usually this jumpy.

"You ok, man?"

"Yeah," Edge muttered, slouching back down in his chair. "I had a cup of joe this morning."

Christian flashed a crooked half smile. "I thought you gave up that crap."

"I did," Edge half smiled back. "That's why it makes me so jumpy any more."

Christian watched Edge for a minute, searching for anything he could possibly want to hide. He decided that he most likely wouldn't get anything through direct questioning, so he continued in a roundabout way that led Edge to think his cover was believable, to his relief. "Kidman, eh? I swear, the dork chops you hang out with anymore... I bet if those chumpstain Hardys were around anymore, you'd start tagging with them in a second."

Edge grinned. He didn't seem to notice that Christian was still intently listening to everything he said for any clues as to his behavior. He shrugged. "Well, hey, Jeff **is** still pretty cute."

"Ah, it makes sense," Christian smiled, remembering memories of the brief time when Edge and Christian had been friendly with the Hardys. Edge had been... 'friendly' ...with Jeff. "You like Kidman now?"

"Maybe," Edge shrugged, a sign that Christian recognized as friendly mocking - Edge wasn't interested in Kidman. Christian instantaneously ran through a couple more ideas, and finally decided Edge hadn't spent last night at the gym with Kidman. His curiosity now thoroughly peaked, he was about to press forward when he the click of a hotel key in the door.

Lance was back. He jumped up quickly as Edge did the same, knocking over the chair he was sitting in.

"**Get the hell out of here!**" Christian yelled, suddenly flipping over the table that Edge had been using as an ottoman seconds ago. He glared at his brother who looked around desperatly for something to throw as well, his eyes falling on the forgotten bottle of aftershave. He grabbed it swiftly and threw it at the wall next to the door, then turned to glare right back at his brother. At the sequences of sudden yelling, loud crashes, and shattering glass, the person on the other side of the door had hesitated. At this point, however, Christian dropped all pretenses and surprised Edge by spearing him down. Poised on his hands and knees over his brother, he sneered menacingly and took off Edge's glasses, tossing them away so he could see the fear that was quite evident in his brother's eyes. Edge hadn't expected that.

"That was expensive aftershave, asshole," Christian whispered in Edge's ear, now smirking. Edge grinned back, quickly raised one of his knees to his chest, then, pressing his shin against Christian's abdomen, straightened his leg up, which successfully flipped Christian off him and onto his back - hard. The aural observer - or, observer**s**, as it turned out - finally burst into the room, ready to help their friend, Christian. Lance jumped on the situation, quickly positioning himself over Christian to prevent further attacking, still trying to figure out what was going on. The other observer, however, Chris Jericho, froze when he made eye contact with Edge, who was rolling up to his feet.

"Get out!" Lance commanded, authoritatively, as Christian used the quick opportunity of having Lance's back to him to wipe the smile off his face. _Lucky bastard, Edge,_ he thought. _He's always smiling like a psycho, so he can get away with smiling now._ Christian got up and feigned an attempted attack on Edge, knowing that Lance would restrain him, which he did. Over Lance's shoulder, he noticed an interesting interaction. After a tough-guy chest-tap call-out that Christian would almost cry with laughter about later, Edge grinned that psychotic grin once more before turning to Jericho, who was still frozen in the doorway. Edge stopped in the doorway, inches from Jericho, dropped his grin, and simply smirked.

Christian felt a wave of jealousy rise in him suddenly, and tried to dismiss that smirk as just a facet of Edge's constant mocking of Jericho. If only Jericho didn't look so nervous, he might have convinced himself of that. There was something between them, but Christian was unclear as to what was going on. He hadn't told Edge that he was interested in Jericho, but it almost seemed to him that Edge was interested, too. He quickly remembered where he'd seen that interaction before. The exact same smirk from Edge, but the look of fear had been in the eyes of Jeff Hardy, a few weeks before he and Edge hooked up. Christian gritted his teeth, frustrated, as Edge left the room and walked down the hall. If he wanted to get Jericho before his brother, he was going to have to make his feelings known. Soon.


	3. Oh, not you, too... [3/6]

A/N: Flashbacks so totally rule! *does the scene change noises/gestures from Wayne's World*

----------

_"What a reekazoid!" Christian laughed, throwing popcorn at the screen as Leonardo DiCaprio slowly froze to death in the icy Arctic Ocean._

"Hey, Ah happen t'like this movie!" Jeff protested, but he couldn't hide a smile. Jeff had always thought Christian was one of the funniest people he knew, and he it cracked him up when Christian would make up new insults on the spur the moment like that.

"If that were me, I would have chucked that hosebeast off the headboard and saved my own ass."

Jeff shook his head again, smirking. "Ah can't see why the girls don't fall at y'feet, man. Y'such a gentleman."

Christian laughed nervously, then fell silent. Another of those obvious signs that Jeff was straight and oblivious to the fact that Christian wasn't. Christian looked over to Jeff. He was deeply involved in the movie, despite Christian's attempts to lighten the mood, absently moving his hand in a path from the bag of popcorn to his mouth. Strands of his newly dyed, rainbow colored hair fell over his face, which was an interesting shade of blue from the reflection of the TV screen. The two were sitting on the floor, in the dark, at the foot of the bed in Jeff's hotel room, watching Titanic_, which Jeff had insisted he was in the mood to see. Christian wasn't a big fan of sappy chick flicks, but he was willing to suffer through it if it meant spending time with Jeff. Yes, he was admittedly in the deep throes of a crush._

He blushed, realizing that he'd been staring, and turned back to the TV. The worst part, he decided with a quiet sigh, was that **he** had caught himself staring, and not Jeff. Christian ran his hand anxiously through his hair. Maybe he could make a move tonight. No, wait, Jeff didn't swing, and Christian knew it. He sighed, audibly this time, and Jeff looked over to him, surprised.

"Movie finally gettin' t'ya?" Jeff asked, smirking.

Christian's eyes widened in mocking sincerity and he nodded. "Oh, yeah, I think we're going to have to break out the tissues and chocolate Hagen Daas any minute now..."

Jeff sneered and threw a piece of popcorn, nailing Christian between the eyes. Christian just grinned. In his mind, he had jumped at Jeff in revenge and ended up in a sweet entanglement. But in real life, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jeff turned back to the tiny TV, shaking his head. Get revenge,_ Christian ordered himself, _he might get suspicious if you just let him get away with that._ Watching Jeff to make sure he didn't notice, Christian deftly pulled the pillow that he'd wedged under his lower back out and waited for the perfect moment to bash Jeff over the head with it._

"Hey!" Jeff protested, throwing his hands up over his head, turning to Christian. "Oh, it's on now!"

Jeff grabbed his own pillow and swung it back at Christian, who swung his pillow under Jeff's and hit him in the side. Jeff, however, was ready for this one and dropped his arm down quickly, securing Christian's pillow.

"Hey," Christian grunted, trying to pull his pillow away from Jeff as Jeff repeatedly hit him over the head with the other pillow. With one final tug, Christian managed to not only knock himself off-balance, but Jeff as well. Christian fell onto his back and looked up, surprised, as he realized that he had just pulled the object of his desire right onto him. He met Jeff's eyes, the two men still grinning from the silliness of their pillow fight. That image engrained itself permanently into Christian's mind.

Kiss him!_ his brain begged, _Kiss him now!__

However, before even a second had passed, Jeff's grin fell, and Christian's involuntarily followed suit.

"Um," Jeff said, pushing himself up to his hands and knees before completely disengaging himself from Christian. Christian swallowed, trying to wet his mouth so he could speak, and propped himself up on his elbows, still sprawled out before Jeff. Jeff leaned back, remaining between Christian's legs, and sat on his heels, silently for a moment, just watching Christian.

"Jeff, I -"

"Ah have a question for ya," Jeff interrupted slowly - but assertively - scratching the back of his head.

Christian swallowed nervously, and nodded. "Ok."

"This afternoon, Ah was talkin' t'Edge, and..."

Jeff trailed off as the door to the room opened behind Christian opened and the overhead lights flipped on.

"So Ah told him..." Matt trailed off, distracted, then attempted a smooth cover with, "Hey, Christian. Jeff."

Christian snapped his head around quickly, and found Jeff's brother, having returned from the gym, standing in the door with a rather surprised look on his face. Much more disturbing, however, was his own brother standing behind Matt, taking in the scene before him with narrowed eyes and running the tip of his tongue over his teeth.

"Hey, guys," Edge murmured, calmly, adjusting his gym bag and smirking at a dirty comment that he assumed would float right over Matt and Jeff's heads. "What's up?"

Christian narrowed his eyes back, blushing. He hadn't mentioned to his brother that he was crushing on Jeff, but he was afraid it was becoming painfully evident now. Christian pulled himself together and got to his feet.

"We had a pillow fight," Jeff answered, just as calmly, and slowly got to his feet as well. Christian looked back to Jeff. He was no longer the confident joker he had been less than a minute ago. Christian thought he saw... was it fear? Jeff was sure jumpy about something now. Christian sadly dismissed the possibility of Jeff feeling guilty about his brother and friend discovering a dirty secret.

"I see," Edge raised an eyebrow, looking briefly at Christian before fixing his attention back on Jeff.

"In th'middle of Titanic_ nonetheless," Matt said, laughing to himself as he picked up the remote from the bed and switched off the end of the movie. "Ah didn't think anythin' could distract li'l Jeffro from _Titanic_."_

He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up between Jeff and Christian and grinned again. "What's with y'two? Y'look like y'got caught with y'hand in th'cookie jar."

Jeff shoved his hands in his pockets and examined the ground. "Yeah... Ah mean, nah. It's nothin'."

"Just a little revenge for a cheap shot," Christian smirked, trying to act like normal. It was obvious Matt was completely oblivious to the tension in the room. Lucky_, Christian thought._

"Yeah, well, ah, great movie, man. Really, I mean it," Christian half smiled to Jeff. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

Jeff raised a brow to Christian, only half looking up, and smiled softly. "Ah'll let ya pick the movie nex' time."

Christian felt a rush of happiness. Next time._ "Damn straight."_

"Yeah. Well, night, guys," Jeff said, looking up, quickly to Edge then back to his brother. "Ah'm goin' t'go for a walk. Don't bother waitin' up."

Matt smirked, and fell back onto the bed, with a yawn. "Don't bother, Ivory already went t'sleep."

"Ha ha," Jeff responded, rather dryly, and went back towards the door. Once in the doorway, he found himself chest to chest with Edge, who hadn't bothered stepping out of the way to let Jeff pass. Christian observed a tense moment where Edge simply smirked at Jeff. Jeff looked like he would shit his pants. Before he even noticed it, Christian was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, an old nervous habit.

"See you around, Jeffro," Edge purred, making Jeff even more uncomfortable by using his brother's pet moniker for him.

"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, looking down and stepping into the hall. "Later."

Edge watched Jeff walk way for a moment, then turned back to his brother. He was met with a mixed look that he couldn't decipher, so he simply shrugged. "Matt?"

"Yeah?" Matt mumbled, sprawled prone on the bed, most likely almost asleep. At least, he thought he was asleep. His response surprised even himself, but he didn't show it. Christian cast Matt a quick glance, noticing that he was still on top of the blankets and fully dressed, shoes and all.

"I was going to tell you that you should probably change before going to sleep, but..." Edge started.

"Too late," Matt finished his thought for him.

Edge smiled. "Nevermind. Catch you later."

"Yeah, same," Matt muttered, still debating if he was awake or asleep. Edge looked back to his brother with a raised brow. Christian sighed and followed Edge, shutting off the light and closing the door behind him.

-

Ah, the memory crashed down on Christian like a ton of bricks, and he sighed. Lance looked back to him, curious, as he shut Edge out.

"You ok?" Lance asked with concern.

"Yeah, fine," Christian muttered, holding his sore back for effect. He was fine, all right. He had gotten revenge for that last July with a resounding con-chair-to. Oh, sure, it had been jealousy - but not over a meaningless trophy. Christian wasn't that petty. It was a matter of humiliation. Speaking of humiliation, Christian knew that Edge was most likely standing outside the door, listening for how his brother would cover this time. Christian raised his voice for Edge's benefit. "That chumpstain just won't leave me alone... always crawling back, begging for forgiveness."

Lance flipped the table back up the right way and picked up the chair, holding it out for Christian to sit, which he did. He looked up to Jericho, who was still standing by the door, slightly anxious. In Christian's mind, Jericho and Jeff were suddenly interchangable. Christian suddenly knew exactly what was going on. All over again.

"Ah, christ!" Christian cried out suddenly, shifting his leg slightly.

"What?" Lance asked, looking up to him.

"My knee... I'm not sure. Must have been when my reekazoid brother dropped me," Christian delicately touched his knee, then massaged it slightly with a grimace.

"Is it bad? Do you need to have it looked at?" Lance was always overly precautious.

Christian shook his head, "No, no, just bruised, I think. Some asprin would help..."

"Do you have any?"

"I can check," Christian started to get to his feet, but grimaced again and fell back into the chair. "Shit. No, I don't think I do, anyway."

Lance sighed, and looked around the room. "Well, you stay off it a minute, I'll run to the store and get some. Chris? Can you keep him company?"

Jericho snapped to attention for the first time since he laid eyes on Edge. "What?"

"Can you keep Christian company while I get him some asprin?"

"Yeah, sure, sure," Jericho stuttered, regaining his composure. "No problem, heh."

Lance nodded, then turned back to Christian. "Just sit there for a bit, I shouldn't be anymore than ten minutes."

"Thanks, man," Christian responded, looking serious. Lance nodded again and grabbed the keys to the rental car and left. After the door shut, Jericho crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. Christian looked up at him surprised.

"Over do the aftershave a little, junior?"

"Heh," Christian stood up from his chair in no pain whatsoever and looked to Jericho with a slight smirk. "Edge broke the bottle. I bet the hotel's going to love that."

Jericho looked over at the broken pieces of glass on the floor then did a double take back to Christian. "Hey, I thought your -"

"What?" Christian asked innocently, arching an eyebrow.

Jericho hesitated, then glared at Christian. "What's going on?"

"I had to get Lance out of here somehow..."

Jericho felt much less intimidated by Christian, as Christian was actually one of the few people around who was slightly smaller than him. Not having learned his lesson with Edge, Jericho once again stood his ground and confirmed Christian's fears with a mix of anger and frustration. "Oh, not you, too..."

Christian took that with more grace than he thought he was capable of and smiled genially.

"The way I see it," Christian started, placing himself inches away from Jericho's face, still sporting a soft smile, "you're in the best place."

Christian locked his eyes onto Jericho's, once again noting the brilliant shade of blue that they really were, but from much closer than he was used to. He enjoyed the close up view very much, and drank it in. He saw the look of fear Jericho showed with Edge scaled back about ten degrees. Christian knew that he didn't intimidate Jericho as much as his brother, and preferred it that way. He tried to softly caress Jericho's face, but Jericho smacked his hand away quickly.

"How's that?" Jericho asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. He did not like the confidence in Christian's body language. It had been different with Edge. Edge was harsh, domineering, and cocky. Christian was more gentle, rational, and collected. For some reason, this scared him more.

"You get to choose. Me or him."

"I choose neither!" Jericho yelled, almost afraid his voice would crack.

"Maybe you do now. I intend to change your mind."

"How -" Jericho almost asked, then stopped realizing what he was setting himself up for. "No!"

He tried to take a step back, but Christian grabbed his shoulders suddenly and kissed him lightly - just a peck. Jericho froze, and Christian smiled, rubbing Jericho's shoulders lightly. In his head, Jericho quickly contrasted the situations with the brothers. Edge had been hot, feral, spontaneous... But Christian was almost... (dare he think it?)... romantic. Cautious.

"Not so bad, hm?" Christian asked, before pulling him in again. He moved his hands to Jericho's face, closed his eyes, and kissed again, softly as he could. He tenatively toyed with Jericho's bottom lip, taking it into his mouth. With a lack of response to that, Christian continued, sliding his tongue into Jericho's mouth. After a second, Christian was rather surprised to feel Jericho respond warmly to the kiss with his tongue, although the rest of him remained motionless. Christian realized not only did he thoroughly enjoy kissing Chris Jericho, but he also enjoyed the feeling of being in control of him, too.

When fully sated, Christian pulled away, and smiled when he noticed that Jericho had shut his eyes, too. That ought to give Edge a run for his money. He moved his hands from Jericho's face to resting his forearms on his shoulders, ready to pull him closer for another kiss, but Jericho's eyes jumped open with fear. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He needed to get out, get some air. He attempted to speak. "I -"

He was cut off by the door opening suddenly, which didn't bother him so much, as he didn't think he had the breath to speak. Christian covered for him nicely, though, leaning heavily on his shoulders and grimacing suddenly. "No, no, I don't think I can walk this off, I might need to ice it."

He hobbled back to the chair and sat down. Lance looked at the two of them, surprised. "Forgot my wallet... Um, you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah," Christian dismissed with a wave of his hand, ignoring the fact that Lance had been talking to Jericho. "Chris just said he thought I might be able to walk it off, but it's kind of sore. I think I just need to ice it for a bit."

"Oh," Lance said, looking curiously at Jericho. Once again, Jericho snapped back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, ice it. That'll help. I gotta go."

Christian turned in the chair to look out the window so Lance wouldn't notice his smirk as Jericho took off at a surprising speed.

"What's with him?" Lance asked, setting a bottle of asprin on the table next to Christian.

"No idea," Christian shrugged, turning back to Lance, who was heading towards the bathroom. "Forgot your wallet? Where'd you get this?"

"Ran into Angle in the hall, he had some," Lance called back an answer, returning with a glass of water. "You going to be ok for the show tonight?"

"Yeah," Christian answered, taking the water. "Thanks, I should be fine. I'm feeling better already."

Lance was confused by Christian's grin, but didn't comment.


	4. Give up. Give in. [4/6]

_I didn't kiss him._

"Yeah you did," Jericho reminded himself with a sigh as he dug through his duffel bag for wrist tape. "But you didn't like it."

_Yeah I did,_ he answered himself. He froze. He hadn't expected to respond like that.

"No, I didn't," he responded, ignoring the fact that he was (a) talking to himself and (b) talking to himself outloud, and went back to looking for his tape.

_Then why'd you kiss him?_

"My eyes were closed! I wasn't thinking..."

_You can't tell the difference between kissing a man or a woman?_

His heterosexual side remained silent.

_Why were your eyes closed to begin with?_

"God, I hate him," Jericho muttered to himself, finally finding the tape and started wrapping his left wrist.

"Hate who?" A soft voice asked. The question was followed up by a small hand with manicured nails examining his arm distractedly, from shoulder to elbow.

"Chris-" Jericho almost answered straight away, but realized that might not be the best idea as he would have to explain why. Better stick with an old standard. "Ah, Triple H."

"Oh," Stacy Keibler answered quietly, as she stopped looking at Jericho like a piece of meat. "Him. Yeah, actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" Jericho responded absently, tearing the tape on his left wrist as he awkwardly started on the right.

"Yeah," Stacy breathed. "Oh, let me help you with that."

"Thanks."

Stacy took the tape and started wrapping Jericho's right wrist, holding his hand and arm more than truly necessary. "Yeah, Triple H really embarrassed me last week. I was hoping you could... maybe... avenge me? I'd really appreciate it..."

Jericho managed to contain a derisive snort. "Well, actually, I'm going to challenge Hogan since he stole a title shot that was rightfully mine and beat Triple H. Hell, if that 'has been' beat Triple H, I could have destroyed him."

Jericho finally looked up when Stacy stopped wrapping the tape and was surprised to find Stacy glaring at him. She ripped the end of the tape off with frustration and stomped her foot indignantly. "Fine! I'll ask someone else!"

With that, she threw the roll of tape at Jericho and stormed off. He raised an eyebrow, confused, and jumped slightly when she slammed the door behind her. What was that?

_Stacy Keibler was flirting with you, and not only did you not flirt back, you didn't even notice._

"I was-!"

_...thinking about Edge and Christian._

Jericho growled to himself.

_You kissed them. Both of them. And you liked it._

"No..." Jericho sighed, sitting on a bench.

_Yes. Your only problem is that you can't decide which you liked more._

"Neither, neither," Jericho muttered under his breath. It didn't really matter if he was talking out loud, he felt like he needed to get this out of his head before it exploded. He needed to find that stupid voice in his head and beat the holy hell out of it.

_You can't get rid of me, I am you. You can't deny it anymore._

"Like hell!"

_Fine. Deny all you want._

"I will," Jericho answered himself haughtily, but stopped when he caught the implications of that statement. "Goddammit. I could have any woman I want. I'm a living legend!"

_So you didn't want Stacy?_

Jericho fell silent again, furiously tying back his hair.

_Give up. Give in._

"It's not true."

_It's decision time._

Jericho unsuccessfully tried to wall off that encroaching corner of his brain.

_Is it Edge? The aggressive, spontaneous, powerful, hot lover? You know you'll be the bitch._

Jericho shuddered, dropping his head in his hands.

_Or Christian? He's much more careful, delicate. And, god, did he ever smell good._

Jericho looked up suddenly after thinking that. He caught his incredulous reflection in the mirror on the wall. "What?"

_Oh, you like the hot, sweaty man smell? That's understandable, too._

Jericho shuddered again, dropping his head back in his hands.

_You know you're never going to be able to forget that look on Edge's face seconds before he kissed you. You liked it. You liked the fact that you knew Christian was going to kiss you. You were jonesing for it._

Jericho's thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand drop on his shoulder. He jumped up and turned to the person who had entered his locker room.

"I'm not gay!" Jericho yelled suddenly, surprising himself. He'd been so distracted by his own thoughts he hadn't noticed Triple H enter his locker room. Triple H raised an eyebrow with surprise, then smirked, losing the anger he had intended to approach Jericho with. He looked Jericho over, noticing the long, braided hair and, more prominently, the pink sparkly jumpsuit.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Triple H asked with a laugh. Jericho just glared at him. Triple H's laughter slowly subsided. "I'm sorry, sorry. I came here to give you hell about what you did to me last week, but it looks like you're having some issues already. You ok?"

Jericho didn't respond.

"Look, man, I know we're not on the best terms, but we do have a common enemy or two. And my enemy's enemy is my friend." Triple H watched Jericho's emotionless face for another second before shrugging and leaving.

"Wait," Jericho called, hesitantly. Triple H stopped and turned slowly, with a raised brow.

"You're right."

With that, Jericho sighed and looked away. Triple H cast him a crooked smile before leaving.


	5. It's completely different this time. [5/...

"Goddammit!" Edge screamed at no one, punching his fist against the cold, unrelenting cinder block wall of the arena. It hurt like hell. He tenderly caressed his knuckles afterwards, but it didn't soothe the real pain, which wasn't related to the wall or his hand. He was frustrated. He was angry at himself. He hadn't known. He didn't know how to apologize.

Or if he wanted to.

He hadn't known that Christian was falling for Chris Jericho, too.

All that fighting, all that anger, all that hatred over something so simple was resurfacing. He didn't want to fight with his brother again. When Edge had fallen for Jeff, he didn't find out that his little brother was under the same spell until half a year later when Christian decided to show Edge how frustrated he'd been by smashing him repeatedly over the head with a chair.

Edge put a hand to his head with the memory. No, he definitely didn't want that again.

He replayed the dismal scene he had unfortunately witnessed moments ago in his head. No, he didn't have any direct proof that Christian was interested in Jericho. It had been the little things. The way Jericho had jumped, again, when he realized that it had been Christian tapping him on the shoulder. The way that Jericho couldn't get the look of fear off his face. The way that Christian smiled at him, and touched him. The look in Jericho's eyes when Christian did touch him.

Yes, it was pretty damn conclusive.

Christian had grown a spine. He had let Jericho know how he felt.

"I should be proud of him," Edge muttered to himself, spinning on his heel and leaning against the wall. He should be proud of Christian for finally chasing after what he wanted. He should be proud of him for being so bold as to have shown Jericho how he felt. Hell, if he'd done that with Jeff, Edge and Christian might still be friends openly. Instead, they kept up this moronic facade because Christian had been too embarrassed to explain to everyone why he attacked his own flesh and blood for seemingly no reason. Edge's guilt over making Christian feel like he did was the only reason Edge went along with it. Also, he figured, it might be convienent later to be on good terms with Christian when people least expect it.

Edge sighed. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to be proud of Christian. Because it was Jericho. Why the hell did Christian always have to crush on the same people that Edge did? It wasn't Edge's fault that Christian had fallen for Jeff and not told him. He could have backed off with Jeff, that was just a passing fancy. But Chris Jericho... Edge had had his eye on Jericho for quite some time now. Why did Christian have to wait 'til **right now** to go after Jericho? The easiest way to solve this, Edge knew, was to let Christian have Jericho. He knew his relationship with his brother was much more important than anyone else, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Edge sighed, rubbing his forehead gruffly with his hand, and tried to find an alternate answer to the problem. He mused briefly whether or not Christian knew how Edge felt about Jericho - if he knew what Edge had done that night at the gym... How far had he gotten with Jericho? Had Jericho told Christian what Edge had done to him? Until recently, Jericho had been better friends with Christian than Edge. Did that give Christian an advantage?

Edge was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps down the hall. He looked up quickly to see who was approaching and smirked as he saw it was Jericho. All the other thoughts rushed from his brain and he got that giddy feeling that accompanies a crush. When Jericho saw him, he froze in his tracks like a deer in headlights. Edge saw the instinct to flee rising in Jericho and pushed himself off the wall.

"Wait!"

Jericho wisely took a step back as Edge approached him this time. Edge didn't seem to mind and left a small distance between them. "Look, Chris, I wanted to apologize for what happened last night."

Jericho didn't respond, he just watched Edge steadily.

"At the gym," Edge continued, just in case Jericho didn't know what he was talking about. Jericho still didn't respond. "Well, I just wanted to let you know how I felt. I guess I might have been a little imposing, but..."

"A little?!" Jericho finally spoke, harshly incredulous.

Edge smiled and set a hand on Jericho's waist, startling Jericho. "I know it can be a little overwhelming if you're not ready for it, but..."

"Ready for what?" Jericho asked, scowling in disgust. To Edge, however, Jericho didn't look so much disgusted as nervous. He couldn't hold back that trademarked grin of his.

"Oh, realizing that you're in love with me."

"I am not!" Jericho yelled louder than he intended to, suddenly pulling away from Edge's hand resting on his waist. Edge's grin dissolved into that smirk that had been driving Jericho up the walls - in more ways than one - for the past two days.

"Stay - away - from me!" Jericho growled, punctuating every other syllable with a finger in Edge's chest. With that, he stalked off. Edge let him go, still smirking as he watched him go.

"So it's true."

The speaker was behind Edge, but he didn't need to turn around to recognize that voice. The high that followed talking to Jericho was punctured by the guilt-inducing edge on Christian's voice. Instead of waiting to meet his brother's glance before speaking, he spoke as he turned.

"Chris, don't be mad. I didn't -"

"I'm not mad," Christian stopped him calmly.

"Chris..."

"No, really. I'm not mad," Christian cut him off again. "Remember those anger management lessons from Page?"

Christian grinned that scary Diamond Dallas Page grin and Edge rolled his eyes.

"Right before you beat the holy hell out of him?" Edge muttered, looking away from Christian, who was chuckling at that memory. The cool calm seemed unnatural in the normally moody Christian and it was starting to weird Edge out. He was used to the unpredictable, 'sneak up on you from behind' Christian, who would be your friend one second and bash you over the head with a chair the next, who could never really control his emotions and came off as high-strung. No, the new, calm, cool, collected Christian wasn't clicking well with Edge's psyche.

"So..." Edge shrugged, running his hand through his hair nervously as he tried to break the unnatural silence.

"So," Christian repeated, raising an eyebrow at Edge. "At the gym with Kidman? That took me too long, I must be slipping."

"I didn't know you liked him," Edge finally finished his original sentence humbly.

"When'd you figure it out?"

"I saw you talking to him earlier tonight."

"Oh yeah," Christian laughed, remembering. "He's so jumpy anymore. He used to laugh at me for that."

"I guess he has good reason to be," Edge mumbled, still confused by how upbeat Christian was acting. "Did he tell you about me?"

"No," Christian shook his head. "I figured it out on my own. He verified it, though."

"Yeah?" Edge looked at Christian, timidly.

"Yeah," Christian grinned. "When he realized that I was hitting on him, he just goes, 'oh, not you, too...'"

Edge smiled for the first time since Christian approached him, shaking his head, then the two fell into another silence.

"Funny, huh?" Christian started suddenly. He laughed slightly as if to verify his hypothesis. "Here we are again. Jeff... Chris..."

"It's completely different this time," Edge corrected. "I know now."

"Are you going to do things differently then?" Christian asked, cynically.

Edge looked up at him quickly, eyes flashing. He noticed the slight irony in the way that Christian's levelheadedness was making him irrational, but snapped anyhow. "Why should I just hand him over to you? You have no more claim to him than I do!"

"I never said you should," Christian answered, shrugging. He knew that he was one of the few people who could truly rouse Edge's temper, and was enjoying that right now.

"Then what exactly are you saying?" Edge looked like he was going to burst.

"I don't know," Christian reflected. "I think I'm saying, may the best man win."

"What is with you?"

"What?" Christian asked blankly.

Edge narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so calm and confident all the sudden?"

"I don't know," Christian repeated with a smile. "Maybe I had an epiphany. It doesn't need to be so complex."

"You're treating this like a fucking game!" Edge exploded.

Christian just shrugged.

"People's feelings are on the line here!"

He finally struck a cord. Christian narrowed his eyes this time. "Unlike with Jeff, huh?"

Edge fell silent, taking an avid interest in the floor.

"Yeah, you won with Jeff all right. But you didn't fucking care about him. You convinced Jeff that he loved you. **I** loved him. No, maybe I don't love Jericho. I like him. I **could** love him."

"I **do** love him!" Edge yelled, surprising not only Christian, but himself. He balked, but stood his ground after a second.

"I didn't know you could love," Christian muttered, harshly, reconsidering his position. Edge just sighed.

"Look, Chris, I swear to god, I didn't know that you liked Jeff, and -"

"Loved Jeff."

Edge flinched, but continued. "- but I really think I love Chris, despite his current behavior, and it's unfair of you to hold an innocent mistake against me!"

"Unfair?" Christian repeated softly, examining the ground.

Edge watched his brother silently, waiting for a decision. When Christian remained silent too long, Edge finally spoke again. "This is important to me."

That made Christian's decision for him. Jeff was important to him. He lifted his eyes to Edge's nervous glance.

"May the best man win," he repeated coldly.

Edge's eyes darted past Christian momentarily, then he looked back at his brother darkly once more before punching him in the face, knocking him back. Christian was startled by the blow and fell against the wall, holding the side of his face as he watched Edge turn and stalk off. As he checked his nose and mouth to see if he was bleeding, Test jogged over to him.

"Wow, man, you ok? What the hell was that?"

"Don't know," Christian muttered, relieved not to see any blood. Test helped him up as he quickly debated whether or not Edge would have hit him if there hadn't been anyone coming. He concluded that he didn't know. "Still bitter, I guess..."

"Wow," Test repeated, as he led Christian to the trainers to get some ice for his new bruise.


	6. I changed my mind. I do want a coke. [6/...

Christian, being the vain creature he was, was yet again watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror of his hotel room. This time, however, he wasn't simply admiring. He was pressing under his eye lightly, examining the small bruise. It was small, yes, but a flaw still. He sighed.

Maybe he had pushed his brother a **little** too far this time.

Of course, Christian wasn't sorry. Edge should have seen it coming. He knew Christian better than to not expect much colder revenge for the whole Jeff incident than just hitting him with a chair or two. That had just been childish frustration.

There was a knock on the door. Looking past his reflection, Christian saw Lance get up from his laptop and head towards the door. "Uh, Christian?"

"Yeah?" he asked back, taking one last look at himself before backing away from the mirror.

"It's... Edge."

Christian had come from the bathroom and he attempted to paste on a bewildered look, finding Lance double checking what he'd seen through the peephole. "What the hell does he want?"

"How should I know?" Lance asked.

"Go ahead, let's see what he wants."

"Maybe he wants to give you a matching shiner for your other eye."

Christian sneered. He had hoped it wasn't that visible. "Thanks, Lance."

"I'm just saying..."

Christian pulled him away from the door and opened it, not bothering to see what Edge was doing before he opened the door. It turned out that he was standing in the middle of the hall, head hanging slightly, wearing those obnoxious sunglasses as usual, hands in his pockets. He raised his glance slightly as the door opened and Christian could almost see the death glare through Edge's reflective shades.

"We need to talk."

"Like hell," Christian answered defiantly, dying to hear what Edge had to say, but still putting on a show for Lance.

"Now," Edge responded, shooting a hand out quickly to grab the coller of Christian's shirt and yank him in the hallway.

"Hey, -!" Lance started, but the fact that Christian wasn't objecting **too** physically, coupled with the harsh way Edge snapped his glance to Lance, convinced him to let Christian go.

"Easy on the shirt!" Christian griped through clenched teeth as he tried to fight off his brother's hold. Edge ignored him and dragged him down the hall. Lance debated following to help, but when Christian freed himself finally and kept following Edge, he washed his hands of it and went back to his computer.

"Where are we going?" Christian whined.

"Somewhere private," Edge muttered, trying to make sure that no one was paying attention to them. After a couple winding hallways, Edge finally stopped at a small room with an ice machine and a soda machine. Christian knitted his brow in confusion, trying to figure out why Edge chose here for whatever it was that he wanted. Couldn't he have kicked out Hogan or whoever it was he was traveling with these days and gone to his room?

Turning back to his brother, Christian started to question him. "What are you -?"

"Here," Edge said, forcefully shoving a handful of paper scraps at Christian.

Christian took them, confused, and started straightening them. "What's all this?"

"Jeff's cell number. Jeff's home number. **Matt's** cell and home numbers. Lita's too, I think. Take them. Track Jeff down. Call him. Tell him how you feel."

Christian's jaw dropped as that registered. He slowly lifted his eyes to Edge, glaring. He saw the desperation in Edge's face. He was honestly afraid that Christian was going to win Jericho over.

"Fuck you, Edge," Christian growled, throwing the papers at him. "I can't fucking believe your nerve sometimes."

"You said yourself that you don't love Jericho, you love Jeff." Edge raised his voice, ignoring the fact that it might not be the best idea to attract attention to Christian and himself. He took off his sunglasses finally, attempting to show Christian his sincerity. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in revealing his fear.

Christian carelessly matched his brother's harsh tone and volume. "You really think I could have him now? Huh? Do you really think he'd give me a second glance after what you did to him?"

"What did I do to him?"

"Nothing," Christian muttered. "You treated him perfectly. He fell in love with **you**."

"He didn't love me," Edge rolled his eyes, setting his hands on his hips.

"No?" Christian asked, giving his brother a cold stare that caused him to rethink his relationship with Jeff.

"I don't think he did, at least."

"Or maybe you were just too fucking distracted to pay attention to him?"

Edge remained silent.

"Planning on doing the same thing to Jericho?"

"No!" Edge yelled, suddenly animate. "Of course not."

"Easy for you to say now."

"Look, Chris, things have changed. **I've** changed. This isn't the same at all."

Christian sighed deeply, looking his brother over. "I'm sick of this. We both know that if we both chase him, you'll only win in the end. Just like Jeff."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"You never chased Jeff!"

"Of course I didn't. It wasn't supposed to be a 'chase.'"

Edge scowled and looked back to the ground.

"Edge, there is nothing you can say or do right now - short of physically incapacitating me - that will make me stop trying to get Jericho, so -"

"You don't think I would physically incapacitate you?" Edge mocked darkly. Christian was starting to piss him off.

"I don't think you could."

Edge glowered and lunged at Christian, but Christian sidestepped him and kicked him in the side angrily as he fell to the floor. Edge grabbed Christian's foot mid-kick and pulled him off his balance, causing Christian to hit the thinly carpeted ground - hard. Edge jumped on the opportunity and started to pummel his little brother, like he used to when they were kids. But he wasn't playing this time. And Christian was much more able to defend himself, Edge painfully discovered.

"What the hell are you doing?" a voice growled from behind them. The two ignored it, so the owner grabbed Edge from behind and picked him up off of Christian. Christian looked up, surprised, as he learned that his unexpected savior was Triple H. Edge stopped struggling after a moment and Triple H let him go. Christian got to his feet hurriedly, straightening his shirt, and Edge wiped away a small trickle of blood from his mouth, not taking his eyes off Christian. Triple H glanced between the two of them, disgustedly.

"I know what you're up to," Triple H warned. Edge and Christian hung their heads guiltily, not exactly sure what he was referring to. "You're acting like little children fighting over a toy."

Christian found himself biting the inside of his lower lip, and cast a glance to Edge. Was he referring to Jericho? How did he know? Edge, on the other hand, was looking pretty smug. Triple H wasn't paying attention to him, so he assumed that Triple H had come to help him. Triple H got in Christian's face. "Can't you act your age?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Christian snapped back at him, thinking, as Edge was, that Triple H was only chastising him. "Mind your own business."

Edge, still proud of himself for getting off easy, chuckled at Christian's defensiveness.

"What are you laughing at?" Triple H turned to Edge quickly. Edge snapped to attention, his jaw dropping.

"I... ah..."

"I've seen you doing it, too."

Edge and Christian looked at each other quickly. How did he know what they were doing to Jericho? Is that what he was referring to at all? Edge sputtered, then, "What are you talking -?"

"Don't play dumb," Triple H warned. "Leave him alone."

Christian quickly repressed his reflex instinct to mock his brother and followed up with his second instinct - trying to save his ass. It just so happened that saving his ass this time involved helping Edge. He picked up Edge's playing dumb tactic. "Leave who alone?"

Triple H went to answer, but was cut off by a timid, "Hunter?"

The three snapped their attention to the door quickly, startling Jericho, who froze when he saw both Edge and Christian watching him, side by side. The brothers took advantage of Triple H looking away to exchange confused glances. Christian mouthed, 'Hunter?', causing Edge to shrug, and the two looked back to Jericho.

"Chris?" Triple H pressed, gently.

"I.. I... um," Jericho stuttered, turning to Triple H slowly. When the two made eye contact, Jericho finally smiled, shortly, and held up a dollar bill. "I changed my mind. I do want a coke."

Triple H grinned and took the dollar from Jericho, holding onto his hand. This seemed to renew Jericho's confidence, and he finally smirked at Christian, then Edge. "What did he do to you, junior?"

"I didn't do that," Triple H started with a laugh. Edge self-consciously wiped the side of his mouth, noticing that it was still trickling slightly. "His brother did."

"And the black eye?" Jericho asked Triple H, grinning now, with a glance to Christian. Christian turned an interesting shade of red, a cross between anger and embarrassment.

"Not me again. But I get the feeling that they might quit hassling you now," Triple H grinned as he let go of Jericho's hand long enough to get him a coke from the soda machine, then came right back. "Right, boys?"

That sounded as fully condescending as Triple H had intended, and Jericho and Triple H left without waiting for a response. That was most likely a good thing, as neither Edge nor Christian spoke for a long time. They stood in slackjawed silence as they watched their toy walk away. Finally, still without saying a word, Christian turned to a motionless Edge and nailed him with a swift blow to the jaw, knocking him back. Edge would have said something, but Christian left too quickly. Edge decided he had lost enough of his dignity to chase after his brother and let him go, massaging his jaw gently with a frown. Christian, on the other hand, as soon as he rounded the first corner, dipped his hand in his pocket - double checking that Jeff's cell number had **somehow** fallen into his pocket.

He flashed a grin and looked over the numbers. "Sweet."


	7. Alternate ending? [or: Yeah we did!]

A/N: Just for amusement purposes, I decided to show all of you how my musi **originally** tried to end this story. They were a little slaphappy, and it took me a while to convince them that it wouldn't fit well with the rest of the story. But nonetheless, here is my first draft of the sixth chapter.

----------

Christian, being the vain creature he was, was yet again watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror of his hotel room. This time, however, he wasn't simply admiring. He was pressing under his eye lightly, examining the small bruise. It was small, yes, but a flaw still. He sighed.

Maybe he had pushed his brother a **little** too far this time.

Of course, Christian wasn't sorry. Edge should have seen it coming. He knew Christian better than to not expect much colder revenge for the whole Jeff incident than just hitting him with a chair or two. That had just been childish frustration.

There was a knock on the door. Looking past his reflection, Christian saw Lance get up from his laptop and head towards the door. "Uh, Christian?"

"Yeah?" he asked back, taking one last look at himself before backing away from the mirror.

"It's... Edge."

Christian had come from the bathroom and he attempted to paste on a bewildered look, finding Lance double checking what he'd seen through the peephole. "What the hell does he want?"

"How should I know?" Lance asked.

"Go ahead, let's see what he wants."

"Maybe he wants to give you a matching shiner for your other eye."

Christian sneered. He had hoped it wasn't that visible. "Thanks, Lance."

"I'm just saying..."

Christian pulled him away from the door and opened it, not bothering to see what Edge was doing before he opened the door. It turned out that he was standing in the middle of the hall, head hanging slightly, wearing those obnoxious sunglasses as usual, hands in his pockets. He raised his glance slightly as the door opened and Christian could almost see the death glare through Edge's reflective shades.

"We need to talk."

"Like hell," Christian answered defiantly, dying to hear what Edge had to say, but still putting on a show for Lance.

"Now," Edge responded, shooting a hand out quickly to grab the coller of Christian's shirt and yank him in the hallway.

"Hey, -!" Lance started, but the fact that Christian wasn't objecting **too** physically, coupled with the harsh way Edge snapped his glance to Lance, convinced him to let Christian go.

"Easy on the shirt!" Christian griped through clenched teeth as he tried to fight off his brother's hold. Edge ignored him and dragged him down the hall. Lance debated following to help, but when Christian freed himself finally and kept following Edge, he washed his hands of it and went back to his computer.

"Where are we going?" Christian whined.

"Somewhere private," Edge muttered, trying to make sure that no one was paying attention to them. After a couple winding hallways, Edge finally stopped at a small room with an ice machine and a soda machine. Christian knitted his brow in confusion, trying to figure out why Edge chose here for whatever it was that he wanted. Couldn't he have kicked out Hogan or whoever it was he was traveling with these days and gone to his room?

Turning back to his brother, Christian started to question him. "What are you -?"

"Here," Edge said, forcefully shoving a handful of paper scraps at Christian.

Christian took them, confused, and started straightening them. "What's all this?"

"Jeff's cell number. Jeff's home number. **Matt's** cell and home numbers. Lita's too, I think. Take them. Track Jeff down. Call him. Tell him how you feel."

Christian's jaw dropped as that registered. He slowly lifted his eyes to Edge, glaring. He saw the desperation in Edge's face. He was honestly afraid that Christian was going to win Jericho over.

"Fuck you, Edge," Christian growled, throwing the papers at him. "I can't fucking believe your nerve sometimes."

Edge narrowed his eyes, and Christian stuck his tongue out at him. This only made Edge angrier, and he swung weakly, scoring a limp wristed slap on Christian. Christian's eyes widened in surprise, and he swung back, the same way. Before they knew what was going on, they were in a full fledged 'limp wristed slap fight,' both swinging blindly as they turned their faces away, wincing.

"What the hell is going on here?" a voice growled.

Edge and Christian opened their squinted eyes to see who had found them. Immediately, Christian backed off from Edge and cried with an accusatory finger, "He started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

The limp wristed slap fight resumed.

"Stop it!" Triple H yelled, startling the both of them. Edge sneered at Christian, who just stuck out his tongue in reply.

"Is this about Jericho?" Triple H asked, accusatorily.

Edge and Christian hesitated, then, doing his best impression of Ashton Kutcher from _Dude, Where's my Car?_, Edge responded, "Nooooo...."

Triple H rolled his eyes, then grabbed the brothers viciously by an ear each. "Come on, kids, it's time to apologize for giving him a complex."

He dragged Edge and Christian down the hall, the two of them yelping and wimpering in pain before he finally let go of them infront of a door so he could find his key. Edge and Christian stood there, rubbing their sore ears and waiting with sour looks on their faces. They could hear eighties metal blasting even through the thick door of the hotel. After a moment, Triple H unlocked the door and let it swing open.

Edge and Christian watched in twisted fascination, unable to turn away. There was Jericho. The man that the both of them had been unable to get out of their heads was now jumping around the room in his pink sparkly jumpsuit, singing off-key and at the top of his lungs to the terrible hair metal, and playing air guitar. No one spoke for a moment, and Jericho, engrossed in his music took no notice of his audience of three.

Finally swallowing to wet his tongue, Christian spoke as quietly as he could to still be heard over the music to Triple H. "We did that to him?"

He sounded almost mournful. Edge had a sad look on his face that matched Christian's tone. They were sorry to have created **that**.

"Oh, no," Triple H chuckled. "He was always like that. You did this."

With that, he stepped into the room and called Jericho's name. Jericho, who'd just jumped onto the foot of the bed, was thoroughly startled and lost his footing, falling to the floor with a heavy crash. Triple H knelt next to him, helping him sit up and making sure he was ok. He blushed and smiled at Triple H. Edge and Christian couldn't hear what Triple H was saying to Jericho, but after a second, he pointed at Edge and Christian and Jericho's smile dissolved immediately. He jumped up to his feet and ducked behind Triple H, who was also getting to his feet. Triple H reached over and turned off Jericho's boom box so he could talk to Edge and Christian.

"It's ok, babe, I won't let them do anything to you."

Edge and Christian exchanged confused glances. Babe?

"What do you want?" Jericho demanded furiously, just barely leaning past Triple H's arm to look at the brothers. He was still holding onto Triple H nervously.

"Um," Christian cleared his throat. "Well..."

"We're sorry," Edge interrupted him. "**Real** sorry. Come on, Chris, let's get out of here."

Christian looked up to his brother slightly surprised, then back to Jericho. Upon making eye contact, Jericho stuck his tongue out at Christian. Unable to refuse a taunt, Christian did the same back. Edge shook his head and grabbed Christian by the shoulders and dragged him away, shutting the door behind them.

The two sighed in unison, then walked in silence to the end of the hall.

"You know what this means, though," Christian finally broke the silence.

Edge grabbed his sunglasses from his pocket and slid them back on. "What?"

Christian smirked. "We **so totally** turned Jericho."

"Yeah we did!" Edge grinned and high fived Christian. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Not only did we turn him, but we **totally** made him turn Triple H!"

"Yeah we did!" Christian laughed, high fiving Edge again. "We still got it!"


End file.
